


Want A Dress?

by riot3672



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Sex, Begging, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, Sibling Incest, Smut, Smutlet, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riot3672/pseuds/riot3672
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Pietro gets a bit too friendly with another Sokovian woman, Wanda can't keep her jealousy bottled up for long. But she has no plans to let him get off easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want A Dress?

**Author's Note:**

> So this lil' thing was written 20 minutes ago for all my lovely Maxicest shippers on Tumblr in honor of that little blip in Pietro's character. *puts a band-aid on Maxicest*

Wanda knew a part of her was being irrational, but watching Pietro flirt with that girl, it took all her willpower not to rip her in half, fuck up her mind so badly she wished she was ripped in half. That, and give Pietro a good knee in the nuts. What was he doing? The medicine was find, the medicine was lovely. Giving the boy a ball, that was lovely. But the dress? What was the point of that? Even if he was just being his misguided self, assuming girls liked pretty dresses, it didn’t need to come with that fucking line. He didn’t have to look at them like that. 

_You’re being ridiculous_. Of course it was. Pietro only loved her. She knew that. But God, she hated seeing him interacting with these other women. She almost wished they were back with Strucker, where she was not only his lover and sister, but the only woman he ever saw. It was ridiculous.

“Something wrong?” Pietro asked after they’d found a decent house to squat in.Apparently, Ultron couldn’t be bothered to get them a house in exchange for being his soldiers. “Do you think we…shouldn’t be working with Ultron?”

“It has nothing to do with Ultron,” Wanda muttered.

She rifled her way through the house, hoping they could get a bit more light than the red glow of her hex energy. 

“Then what?”

She turned around, her shawl furrowing up. Pietro backed up a hair, and she wondered if her eyes were glowing red. If they even fluctuated with her emotions. “Are you kidding me?”

“I really don’t know.” He caught her by the wrist. “Wanda, talk to me. Please.”

“Leave your sweet talk for your whores and their dresses.”

Pietro let go. “Wanda, I wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what? Flirting? I think I know what your flirting looks like.”

“I wasn’t trying to—I just, I don’t know. I wanted to be…you know, appreciated. It was stupid.” He exhaled. “Jesus, I forgot you were the jealous type.”

Wanda shot him the dirtiest look she’d given him in years. “Excuse me?”

That stupid smirk crawled back onto his face. “You’re the jealous type. You can’t stand me interacting with any other women.” He stuck his hands into his pockets. “Hey, I’m sorry. I should be more sensitive.”

Pietro was doing exactly what she wanted, but her veins were still bubbling with red hot anger. She hated how well he knew her, he hated his self-satisfied smile, she hated how he was risking his life to prove he was a worthwhile human being because of his powers when she’d thought he was perfect and amazing and heroic all his life. 

“Fuck you,” she hissed.

The words tasted like acid the moment they left her lips, and stood there as stunned as him. For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other. 

She walked up to him.

Walked up to him, slammed him against the wall, and kissed him.

He squeaked out some sound of surprise, but he showed his cards within seconds. Wrapped his arms around her, squeezed her, started grinding against her. Even with her tongue in his mouth, he played rough. 

No. No, he was not taking charge. Not tonight. She was pissed. He needed to know how goddamn pissed she was.

She pulled away, took his arms, and pinned him against the wall.

“You want me, ‘tro?” she whispered into his ear.

“So much,” he said through already bated breath.

“You can’t have me. Not unless you do everything I say.”

Pietro grinned. “Anything.”

She exhaled, tried to calm her hammering heart at least a little, but it wasn’t happening. She got onto her knees, and Pietro’s hands instantly went to the zipper of his jeans. She threw her fingers over his and pried them off.

“What do you want, ‘tro?”

“I want you.” He ran his hands through her hair. “On me, around me. Everything.”

Wanda paused, hovered her lips just above his zipper. “What do you want? You’ll need to be a little more _specific_.”

“Blow me. Fuck me.”

She took the tip of his zipper in her mouth and pulled it down. His boxers weren’t hiding much. His hands went to the waist of his jeans, but she pinned him back with her hex energy. “Nothing without my permission.”

He raised his eyebrows, still slowing his breath enough to not be panting.

She tugged his jeans and boxers down to his knees, looked just beyond his erection. 

“What do you want, Pietro?”

“Fuck me.”

She wrapped her hand around his shaft, her grip light. She ran her thumb up and down in a caress. Flippant. 

“You really want this?”

She pulled away just long enough to drop her dress to her ankles. 

“Yes.”

“You sure?” She snapped off her bra, rolled her panties off. 

“Yes! God, yes! Fuck, what do you want from me?” He leaned forward. “I’ll do anything. Lick you wet, fuck you, make love, God, I’ll do anything.”

“Get on the floor.” She smirked. “Give me a show, pussyhound.”

He peeled off his shirt and kicked his pants away. “Come down here and I’ll give you something better than a show.”

She got down, shoving his cock inside her. She moaned instinctually. “You asshole.”

He smiled. “I love you.”

She dug her hands into his hair, pulled at his white mop, riding him harder than she’d ever done before. Her nails dug into scalp, down his neck, along his back. The anger was the perfect beat for the pleasure. Objects flew in a flurry around them.

_Asshole, asshole, you fucking idiot thought you could do that to me you’re mine you’re mine you’re_ mine _._

She collapsed around him with a cry and nails deep enough into his skin that he’d have a scar the next morning. He came right after her, groaning and pulling her into him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The anger was finally receding. 

“Feeling better?” he asked.

She exhaled. “I don’t know.”

He nestled her against his chest, kissed her forehead. “I truly am sorry. I should’ve been more aware of your feelings. I didn’t realize it would upset you so much.”

“Why do you feel a need to impress these people? Those people…they’ll only love you for your speed. They’ll love the superhero.” She looked up at him, hovered with their lips inches apart. “I love you for you. I love Pietro Maximoff, and I can’t stand you not doing the same.”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t make up excuses.” He kissed her softly on the lips, and rested his forehead against hers. “Do you accept my apology?”

She closed her eyes, savoring their tiny exchange of heat. “Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hesitated, pulled away a bit. “Do you want a dress?”

She pushed him, bit back a smile. “Fuck off.”


End file.
